


A Change In Tradition

by HiddenSt0rms



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Nakamaship, Oneshot, Sad with a Happy Ending, Smart Monkey D. Luffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenSt0rms/pseuds/HiddenSt0rms
Summary: “Exactly! When I first lost him, Jinbei asked me to list what I had left, so I said you guys. So I ask you this: if you have us, why are you dealing with this alone?”~For once, Robin doesn't have to grieve alone.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy & Nico Robin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	A Change In Tradition

If there’s one thing the Straw Hat crew has in common, it’s their independence, and not just in the context of travelling on their own. Most, if not all, had been orphaned or abandoned at a young age, throwing themselves into an already dangerous world with no parental figure to guide them. A painfully raw independence that’s rarely talked about, yet is apparent in each one. 

Given that Robin joined the crew considerably late into their journey, she has learned that there will always be a sort of mystery to her nakama. She’s perceptive enough to pick up on the little details to piece together parts of their pasts, but also socially aware enough to never probe. 

Common sense says that a group of pirate teenagers didn’t grow up in a fairytale.

Even if Robin doesn’t know everything there is to know about her nakama, she knows enough that they don’t have a motherly figure in their life, or at least haven’t had for a while. None are technically children, but even adults need guidance sometimes, even if pride keeps them from asking. 

Robin especially knows firsthand what it’s like to grow up without her mom. Of course Robin’s child mind tried to understand that her mother had other responsibilities to fulfill with her work, but it was an agonizing waiting game. And when they were finally reunited? Robin lost her mom before her eyes at 8. Growing up is especially harder without guidance.

The last thing she wants is for her nakama to experience the same thing.

It’s the little things Robin does to take on a motherly role. Minor enough to not be antagonized for treating her nakama as ‘weak,’ but enough in number to make a steady, underlying difference. Such as the time she comforted Chopper when he was too scared to sleep from a particularly bad thunderstorm. How she always offers a hand (or dozen) to help Sanji with the dishes, Nami redirecting Sunny. The inviting ears to listen to anything her crew deems important enough to not stifle inside. Or the hand sprouting on one’s forehead if they seem to not be feeling well. It’s the general putting her crew before herself because Robin ever so much wishes she had that at their ages, which are difficult already without the added pressures of the pirate life.

But one day a year, Robin just can’t take on this role.

Robin didn’t get a good night’s sleep. The mere second she was able to fall asleep, she stirred herself back awake with the same amount of energy as before. The one day of the year would be tomorrow. Far too many thoughts to get a full 8 hours.

Sanji had already been up, as expected, and had no problem brewing a steaming mug of much-needed coffee for his sweet Robin-chwan. She likes it black, as always, and she simply offers a polite phrase of thanks and a gentle warning that she is to be left alone this morning. She retreats to her usual deckchair, but only this time, there’s no book in hand, only her coffee and thoughts.

It’s a cool morning, but the warmth from the coffee is doing enough to keep Robin comfortable. No one else should be up for a while, thankfully, so she lets herself succumb to the emotions yanking at her heart. 

Soon the mug is empty, but Robin stays put. She knows the deck is most likely empty due to Sanji enforcing her warning, which she appreciates, but she can’t help but feel slightly guilty at this. She shouldn’t keep her crew from enjoying themselves simply because of something she’s not even willing to share with them. That’s not fair, but then again, her judgment is clouded by bottled up pain.

Robin decides enough is enough. She figures she can grieve in her bedroom instead, the morning coming to an end and therefore her tradition as well, but she senses someone approaching her. Perhaps Sanji ran out of meat for bribing.

Large eyes are serious and with confusion, curiosity, and concern. He surprisingly says nothing, only letting his presence sink in. 

Of course Robin understands what Luffy wants. He wants to know why she is acting so strangely because he’s her _captain_ and she’s his _nakama_. That’s how things work. He wants a full explanation, no details skipped, nothing left unsaid.

Robin swallows thickly as she racks her mind for something that will appease her captain, but he beats her to speak first and point out the obvious:

“You’re crying.”

It’s true, Robin can’t deny that. Even without a mirror, she can tell her cheeks are swollen and tear-stained, and she can feel the hurt clouding the usual intrigue in her eyes. She says nothing, only getting up, but a rubber hand gently grasps onto her wrist. Her eyes meet his, and if she’s looking correctly, Robin sees a plea amidst the dark pools.

“I’m your Captain.”

_I knew it._

Guilt bites at Robin’s heart again. Luffy’s worried about her, and spending his own perfectly good morning to be so. She’s being a burden again. Instinct tells her this is wrong, that the roles should be reversed. 

“I’m alright,” Robin finally says, strain peeking through the forced joy. “You can find something else to do.”

“No. You’re not alright.”

“It’s not something I feel keen to discuss.” Robin says directly, and she sits back down.

Luffy tilts his head. “Oh?”

“Please respect that, Captain.”

Luffy takes a seat on the other deckchair, as concerned as he is stubborn. He doesn’t make eye contact, instead keeping his eyes focused on the horizon in the distance. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

“Her?”

“When he died,” Luffy says. “Ace, I mean. Ever since he died, things remind me of him. Not as much as in the beginning, but it’s still there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Captain.”

“But it’s your turn,” Luffy turns to face Robin, who doesn’t seem to get what he meant by that, so he adds, “I’ve had my share of that. Now it’s your turn. Today means something about your mom. Am I right?”

Robin’s surprised that Luffy of all people could pick up on this. She offers a tentative response. “It’s her birthday.” 

Luffy nods slowly, taking in this new development. “On Ace’s birthday, this past January. It was hard for me too. Sure, I’ve spent plenty of his birthdays without actually seeing him when we left each other to be pirates,” He saddens. “But it was just... really weird when I didn’t send a ‘happy birthday’ message through a news coo. Really weird.”

Robin thinks back to the first few years after losing her mother, when she’d been heartbroken at the sight of other girls her age looking happy with their moms. The jealousy, the overwhelming desire to time travel to the past, the sadness of knowing that she would never again reunite with her mom, at least not anytime soon. 

“But we had that party, remember!” Luffy changes emotions like a switch, now sporting his killer smile. “I didn’t ask for it, but everyone helped me through it! Everyone contributed a little, so it helped a lot! For that one night, the pain wasn’t there, and it was because of you guys.”

Robin is utterly stunned at this side of her childish, naive captain, but he seems to have said what he came to say. She thinks the conversation is over and that he’ll return to whatever he was doing and she can get out of his way, but being the child he is, Luffy starts counting on his fingers.

“Nami. Usopp. Sanji.”

“Hm?”

“Chopper, Brook, Franky, Zoro, me…”

“What are you talking about?”

“We all grew up without a mom at some point. Some younger than others.” That’s all Luffy offers so as to not violate his nakama’s privacy, but it’s enough to get his point across. 

Robin doesn’t realize there are tears pressing against her eyes again. She offers a thin while polite smile as she gently tries to blink them away. They roll down instead. 

“What do you have, Robin?”

“What do I have?” Robin echoes. 

“What are the things you have left?” Luffy grins. “Or people, rather.”

“Well,” Robin gives an amused half-smile. “I’d say you can figure that out.”

“Us, right?” 

Robin nods. This seems to be the right answer because now Luffy is flashing another bright smile.

“Exactly! When I first lost him, Jinbei asked me to list what I had left, so I said you guys. So I ask you this: if you have us, why are you dealing with this alone?”

_Pure habit, Captain._ “I guess I just...I’m not used to this. I’ve always had to deal with it on my own,” Robin brightens up. “And I keep forgetting that I no longer have to.”

“Well, enough of that!” Luffy smiles brightly. “You have us to help you through these things. Not because we have to, but because we want to,” he stands up. “Sanji said lunch should be ready soon. Come eat with us!”

Robin truly does. 

For the first time, Robin no longer feels alone. The others naturally grow worried when she comes into the galley with swollen eyes, but she’s somehow able to let them know what’s going on. 

No details skipped, nothing left unsaid.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started this fic way before I wrote The Birthday Promise. I realized the themes fit together and decided to add the reference later. If you liked this one, you might like The Birthday Promise as well.


End file.
